Tag: love

College drop-off reflections

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized, childhood, parenting, Rants, travel1 Comment
A dad wheeling a red cart of dorm stuff and a daughter wearing a backpack and carrying a basket of dorm stuff on a college campus

120 hours ago I left my only daughter on the steps of her dorm. While I knew this day was coming, I was unprepared for my heart to shatter the moment I turned to leave. Then when I turned back to catch one last glimpse, she wasn’t looking back at me, so my shatters shattered. I found myself in an unexpected mom abandonment situation. Rather than curl up and sob in front her her dorm where she’d be able to see me from her window, I opened my eyes as wide as I could, knowing that by increasing my eyeball surface area my tears would evaporate rather than run down my face. My huge eyes caught the attention of a mom walking into the dorm with her son. Empathy crossed her face, but I turned away. She, as a current active parent, couldn’t comprehend how I felt.

Shockingly, my body functioned even with a twice shattered heart so my husband and I found food to stave off starvation after our five hour move-in-athon. I say “my husband” because that’s the childless title. While I shoveled cheese curds, fries, and a sandwich into my mouth, I continued not blinking. I also attempted to cease breathing, so that the embarassing pre-sob breath hitches stopped escaping when my husband said things like, “It’s so weird. Like we aren’t parents anymore.” Obviously he wanted to watch me break down in public. There was no other reason for him to discuss anything other than the quality of his potatoes or the crispness of his toast.

We had plans to meet up with family after dinner. They have young children, and I was excited to warn them about the coming danger in their lives. (Their kids’ ages range from 7-12.) After sobbing into their chests I said, “Lock your kids in the basement now. Don’t let them come out. This is a terrible thing. Why would anyone ever want this?” My rantings were silenced when a large bowl of apple crisp topped with melting vanilla ice cream was shoved into my hands and I was led gently to the kitchen table. While dessert soothed my soul, I noticed they did nothing to avoid my pain and instead kept talking about middle school, elementary school, soccer practice, and fall baseball. In six years my “I told you so” is going to feel so sweet. Once it was bedtime, they sent me off to my hotel room to begin my new role as a virtual parent.

An abridged list of the texts from my daughter that first night:

  • I hate it here
  • It’s just so hard to meet people
  • I feel like it will be impossible to find my friends at this giant schoool
  • Everyone has friends mom
  • I don’t know what to do
  • I just want to go home
  • I hate it here
  • I’m going to bed unfortunately my lullaby is the sound of people on my floor laughing and having fun

While showering away the grime of moving and OH MY GOD THE LAST TOUCHES OF MY DAUGHTER’S HAND, wisdom came to me. Still wrapped in a towel I texted

  • You know Maslows’s hierarchy of needs, right?
  • (I inserted an image of his pyramid as a reminder)
  • Your pyramid has been attacked at the base level.
  • Your mind thinks — OMG! New place, new people, new environment! I’m not safe.
  • For a week — focus on making sure you are safe and cared for. When you are starving you don’t need your favorite food. You need calories. When you are alone, you don’t need the perfect friend, you need acquaintences.
  • Give yourself time to feel safe before you find yourself belonging.

(Note the generational text punctuation divide.)

My daughter replied, “Whoa that’s wise,” which is higher praise than I think I ever got as an in-person parent.

I spent the night in a hotel room with two people, instead of the three we’d had the night before. The next morning, my husband and I drove away from my daughter and toward our childless home. Already the conversation was changing. My texts complained about my husband’s stinky car burps and she mused, “First dorm shower done… It’s really odd to be naked and have shoes on.”

Now our relationship is based on random texts — why there was a communism poster on campus, how college boys fit so much food in their bodies and drink so much milk, pictures of pets from home, and bemoaning the water bottle lost on the second day of classes — and occasional FaceTime and phone calls. She’s doing great, even though she says she’s not, so I’m doing okay. I’m blinking again and breathing normally. Without any medical scans I can’t be sure, but I think my heart is mending too.

Wonky Love

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized3 Comments

Love is not always a humped crimson orb tapering to a perfect point.  Sometimes it’s a little asymmetrical, dirty and rounded. 

Or life has taken a big hunk out of it.  

Occasionally it’s cracked, misshapen, and poorly sprinkled – yet still delectable.  

Sometimes it’s fuzzy and a bit standoffish.

Unexpectedly its feathery alien aspects will push you to new limits.  

Yet pure glimpses into its soft irregular perfection will overwhelm you.

Whatever the shape, size, or consistency of your love today embrace it.  Happy Valentine’s Day from my afthead (and forehead) to yours.img_1238

There is a tiny girl

On By aftheadIn stories14 Comments

There is a tiny girl.  Her story is not my story, but her parents.  Her parents are my friends and like most children of my friends she got a hat when she entered this world.  A hat with a poof as big as her head.

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She got sick in her second fall and after days and weeks and months of horrible tests the worst imaginable diagnosis came back, but that is their story, not mine.
It’s winter now and my hands have longed to help my friends.  We bought them meals, but I wanted to do something personal, so I cast on a hat.  A bigger hat with a tiny pom pom.    A hat with a brim, because it is cold this January and my friends are so cool.  Their daughter needs a hat to keep her warm this winter.  Her parents need a hat that tells them their friend still thinks about them and cares.  I hope it isn’t too big, because the tiny girl may not have time to grow into things, and that is the tragedy.  There is a tiny girl, and soon she will have a new hat knit with love and sorrow and friendship for her, her family, for all they have endured and all they have yet to endure.

Bittersweeter

On By aftheadIn stories28 Comments

Dear Sneaker Squeaker,

Today I got a terrible, but not unexpected phone call.  It was the shelter letting me know that your heart murmur wasn’t just a murmur, but heart failure.  When they took your chest x-ray, nothing was right.  Your heart wasn’t right.  Your lungs were full of fluid.  At 3 months old you had reached the end of your life.

I always thought that something wasn’t right with you.  Your meow was strangled and squeaky, thus your name.  You panted at odd times.  Your eyes never quite opened.  I had hoped it wasn’t a terminal “not right,” but it was.  The news was a blow to my already bruised and battered heart.

When we took you from the shelter you were so tiny and so sick.  I would work on the computer with you in my jacket close to my heart.  I was committed to you even though I wanted to keep my distance.  I didn’t think you’d make it through the first week.  I ran steaming water in the shower and sat with you in the kitten spa to try to make you well, and it worked.  Yesterday you weighed enough and were healthy enough to go in and get adopted, or so thought my untrained eye.

I knew when I saw messages from the shelter that you were sick.  I hoped it was a “we need you to foster him a few more weeks” sick, but it wasn’t.  When I called and they told me the horrible news, I wept.  When they asked if I wanted to come in and say goodbye I paused, and then said “No.”  I had said my goodbyes the day before.  I had kissed your soft fur and told you I loved you.  I couldn’t do any better than that.

I loved your brown and black stripes that had started to grow down your back like a monochromatic skunk.  I love the trusting way you flopped down when you sat on anyone’s lap, certain that they would support you wherever you landed.  I loved how you would play with your sister and the big cat.  I loved your sweet purr, a whisper of your sisters big engine.  Because no relationship is perfect, I need to acknowledge that I didn’t love how you peed all over the house, but that flaw wasn’t enough to keep me from loving you completely.

I had hopes for your forever home, but it turns out I was your forever home.  Your forever was 13 short weeks.  I loved having you here, and I know you loved being here.  Thank you for sharing your life with us.  I hope you and your three siblings are somewhere sharing a sunbeam together.  Know that part of my heart is still with you.

With deepest affection,

Johanna

P.S.  I do want you to know that when I heard you were dying I adopted your sister.  I hope you don’t mind, but I needed some joy after so much loss.  The sadness was overwhelming.  Her whole name is now Adventure Sneaker-Squeaker Blackie Tiny No-Name as a tribute to you and your brothers and sisters.  It’s a big name for her, but I think she can carry it.  We love you always!

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Fostering Kittens is Humbling

On By aftheadIn Uncategorized10 Comments

We are days away from the end of our kitten fostering adventure.  Two months ago I picked up three kittens from the Denver Dumb Friends League.  Of our original three we have one left, and ended up fostering one additional litter mate when his sister died in the shelter.  Five kittens were born together, and this week two kittens will go back to the shelter to find their forever homes.  The experience has been humbling, sad, and full of love and joy.  These fragile creatures are so tiny, yet so big in our hearts.  Reflecting back on the experience, we have learned so much.

The Sorrows

  1. Stray kittens have a rough start at life.  In the family of five kittens three died.  One of the living had a bacterial infection and the other had a parasite and both diseases threatened their lifes.  I learned how to give IV fluids, antibiotics, immunizations, and anti-parasitic medicines.  If my job goes south I have many qualifications of a vet tech now.
  2. Even with all my dedication, hard work, care, and the wonders of modern medicine accidents still happen and kittens still die.  There is a very, very good reason that they stress keeping your toilet seats down when fostering kittens.  Of all the life lessons I hoped our family would learn from this, I never hoped to learn that one.  Life is fragile.  Never doubt it.
  3. When you tell your daughter that the kitten drowning is “family business” she will still tell her friends, who will tell their friends, who will tell their parents, who will ask you point blank at awkward times if a “kitten really drowned in your toilet.”  They are judging you, but you don’t need to judge yourself again.  Horrible things happen and people who don’t risk taking care of the sick and weak will never have to answer such questions.
  4. The animal foster community is amazing.  The foster coordinators who work at the shelter saw me at my worst many times.  They were always loving, took my concerns seriously, and gave the best care to the kittens.  The other volunteers and foster parents were a resource that this new foster parent drew on daily.  Once we were over the hump and the kittens were healthy and growing, the community rejoiced with me.

The Joys

  1. Our kittens were technology wizards.  They quickly learned that heat comes out of laptops and modems and always found the warmest place to sit.    
  2. Kittens do not make good bookmarks.  They are too lumpy. 
  3. Anytime you put something on your head that a kitten hasn’t seen before – earrings; hats, sunglasses, glasses – those objects must be explored and tasted.  
  4. If you are not a good housekeeper a kitten will reveal every bookcase that hasn’t been dusted under, refrigerator coil that needs vacuuming, and errant spiderweb in your house.  They will clean these areas for you, and then you will clean the kitten.  
  5. Baby kittens do not have hair on their bellies at first.  This makes kittens attractive from the top, but unattractive when rotated 180 degrees.  
  6. After 7 weeks of hesitant interactions kittens really taste good.  
  7. There is only room in any sunbeam for one kitten, regardless of the size of the sunbeam.  
  8. Big eyes help kittens get away with a host of transgressions.  

We’ve decided that these are not our cats, and giving them back is going to break our hearts for the hundredth time.  When they leave us I hope they find love, patience, a big cat to play with and a bad housekeeper to love them.  If you ever find yourself in need of a new pet, I encourage you to adopt from a shelter.  You never know the kind of love that may come with your new pet.